


Friends in the Forest

by JamieHasCatEyes



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Gen, Minor mention of blood, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25581982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieHasCatEyes/pseuds/JamieHasCatEyes
Summary: Takashi and Nyanko-Sensei stumble upon an acquaintance in the forest. Unfortunately, he's unconscious.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 69





	Friends in the Forest

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for this fandom, but I have loved the manga & anime for years. Natsume is my precious little son, and Matoba is a creep and a bastard, and I love him dearly.  
> This is a pointless little one shot that doesn't really go anywhere, but has been running through my head for months. Now, I have finally decided to write it out, so I hope this tiny fandom likes it. This is a criminally underrated series. Anyway, please enjoy ♥

‘Why do I have to come with you?’ whined Nyanko-Sensei. ‘I was sleeping, and Touko-san was making fried dumplings.’

Takashi panted as he continued to hike up the rough mountain trail. ‘You were either sleeping or eating. You can’t do both at the same time.’

‘I can sleep while I wait for food. It’s called multi-tasking.’

Takashi sighed. ‘You’re my bodyguard, right? I might need you if an emergency comes up.’

Nyanko-Sensei preened. ‘True. Those skinny little arms of yours aren’t good for much.’

Takashi spared a glance over his shoulder to scowl at the misshapen cat, but declined to comment further. Instead, he kept walking, taking longer strides and forcing Nyanko-Sensei to increase his pace if he wanted to keep up.

‘Oi,’ he wheezed, ‘wait for me.’

They hiked for half an hour before Takashi heard a wavering voice calling out to him.

‘Natsume-sama. Natsume-sama.’

The voice sounded vaguely masculine and like it came from a woodwind instrument. Turning to his right, Takashi saw an ayakashi like a wooden flute stuck in the knothole of a tree. It wore a green kimono, and only had a suggestion of a face below what would have been the mouthpiece of a flute. Takashi approached him carefully.

‘Are you really Reiko-sama?’ asked the flute. ‘Can you please return my name? It’s been so long.’

Removing the Book of Friends from his bag, Takashi slowly shook his head. ‘Reiko was my grandmother. She passed away some years ago. My name’s Takashi.’

The flute sighed sadly. ‘Human lives are so fleeting. I fear Reiko has taken my name with her.’

‘Not necessarily; she left her book behind, see? If you like, I can still return your name.’

The flute looked up at him. ‘Can you really? If it’s not too much trouble, of course. Also, can you help me out of this tree? A pair of mischievous ayakashi dropped me in here as a joke.’

‘Some joke,’ muttered Takashi as he placed his book on the ground. He then carefully gripped the flute in both hands and lifted him from the damp knothole.

Nyanko-Sensei was scowling at his back. ‘Idiot, why’re you promising to return his name?’

Takashi ignored him, and placed the flute on the ground. It balanced there on his bottom end, the empty sleeves of his kimono swaying in the breeze. Takashi briefly wondered how the clothes stayed on when the flute had no shoulders to hold the garment up, but dismissed the thought with a mental shrug. Ayakashi were strange.

He picked up the Book of Friends and began flipping through the pages. Halfway through, a single page remained upright, revealing the ayakashi’s name. Takashi tore the page out, and placed it in his mouth, mumbling the phrase to return the name to its original owner. As the ink left the paper, memories filled his vision.

The flute was idling by a stream when Reiko happened by. She had a bruised cheek, but her attitude was blasé, even cavalier. She dismissed the flute’s concern, and challenged him to a game, which he invariably lost. Reiko claimed her prize with a promise to call on him should she ever need to, and never returned.

Takashi’s vision returned, accompanied by a derisive snort from Nyanko-Sensei.

‘That Reiko. It’s always the same thing; broken or unfulfilled promises and brutality. She was a bully.’

Takashi couldn’t argue. He smiled weakly, wondering once again what had driven his grandmother into becoming the type of person she was.

The flute bowed stiffly. ‘Thank you, Natsume-sama. I am truly grateful.’

Takashi smiled as the flute bounced away, his colouring helping him blend quickly into the scenery.

‘Fool,’ Nyanko-Sensei snapped. ‘Moron. The Book just keeps getting thinner and thinner. There’ll be noting left by the time I get it.’

‘Oh, I’m sure there’ll be something left,’ Takashi placated him.

‘The covers don't count,’ grumbled the cat.

‘All right, let’s see who else we can give their name back to.’

Nyanko-Sensei squawked in outrage. ‘What did I just say‽’

Ignoring him, Takashi continued on his way, while Nyanko-Sensei huffed and wheezed insults behind him.

After an hour they had returned two more names, leaving Takashi exhausted and a little dizzy. He slumped down on a fallen log to rest and return the book to his bag, while Nyanko-Sensei gloated vindictively.

‘You’ve done this to yourself. This is what you get for returning so many names. It’s your punishment for taking those precious things away from me. It’s karma – karma I tell you.’

‘Right, right,’ Takashi agreed wearily.

He allowed himself a few minutes to rest, then heaved himself back to his feet. ‘We’d better head back home, or Touko-san will begin to worry.’

Nyanko-Sensei perked up. ‘Fried dumplings, here I come.’

He whooped as he made his way back to the game trail, while Takashi lumbered slowly behind. He’d only gone a few meters when something unnaturally dark caught his attention just off the trail, partially concealed under a bush. He paused, staring at the patch of darkness, waiting for it to move.

‘Come on, slowpoke,’ called Nyanko-Sensei irritably.

Takashi indicated he come back with a small wave. ‘Sensei, come look at this.’

With a huff of annoyance, Nyanko-Sensei waddled back up the trail. ‘This better not be some ayakashi wanting its name back.’

Takashi pointed at it. ‘I don't know what it is.’

Nyanko-Sensei peered at the thing, before pushing his way through the leaves to the other side of the bush. Takashi followed after a moment of hesitation, his eyes bulging when he saw what it was.

Matoba Seiji was laying on his back, unconscious, in the middle of a clearing. The dark patch Takashi had seen was Matoba’s sleeve, his outstretched arm extending under the shrubs. A trail of blood leaked from his hairline, but there was no other sign of injury or a scuffle.

Nyanko-Sensei snickered meanly.

‘Don't laugh, this could be serious,’ Takashi said as he knelt by Matoba’s side.

The blood had partially dried, but there was no indication that he would wake any time soon.

‘We have to get him somewhere safe.’

‘Why?’ asked Nyanko-Sensei. ‘I'm sure something will come along and eat him soon. There's plenty of folk around here who’d love to eat an exorcist or two.’

Takashi shot him a level stare. ‘That’s exactly why we have to move him. Now help me carry him home.’

Nyanko-Sensei’s eyes widened. ‘Say what?’

‘Transform and carry him back to the Fujiwara’s place on your back.’

‘You must be joking.’

Takashi knew he couldn’t argue with Nyanko-Sensei if he wanted to get his way, so he resorted to the only tactic that consistently worked – shameless flattery.

‘But your true form is so strong and imposing. You could carry a whole army on your back without breaking a sweat. Imagine, if Matoba woke up while you’re transformed, he’d be too awed to do anything beyond bow his head.’

Nyanko-Sensei looked increasingly smug with every compliment. ‘I am very beautiful and grand. Humans should quake at the sight of me. Very well, I’ll carry the lousy exorcist back, but the minute he tries anything funny, I’ll eat him myself.’

‘Deal.’

Nyanko-Sensei reverted to his true form, and Takashi struggled to lever Matoba’s limp figure up and across Madara’s back. He slung one of Matoba's arms over his own shoulders, and all but dragged the rest of him towards where Madara crouched low enough for him to climb on, and pull his burden up behind him. Once Matoba was draped across Madara’s back, Takashi gripped the back of Matoba’s kimono, took a handful of fur with his other hand, and signalled he was ready to move.

With a great leap, Madara leapt into the air, and bounded back down the mountain. Takashi tightened his grip and clenched his jaw, hoping he could maintain his hold on both Madara and Matoba.

Soon enough, Madara drew alongside Takashi’s bedroom window and paused, while Takashi leant over to push it open. It was a precarious position, but better than entering by the front door and having to explain to Touko why he had an unconscious man with him.

Takashi then slid from Madara’s back, in through the open window, to prepare a futon for Matoba to lay on. However, before he could pull the bedding from his closet, Madara tipped sideways and dumped Matoba in a heap on the bedroom floor. He then transformed back into a Lucky Cat with a small puff of smoke, looking far too pleased with himself.

‘Sensei,’ Takashi shouted reproachfully.

Nyanko-Sensei affected an air of innocence. ‘What? I did what you wanted, didn’t I?’

He knelt by Matoba once more to make sure he was still breathing and his neck wasn’t broken. ‘You were supposed to be gentle with him. He could’ve been seriously hurt just then.’

‘Takashi-kun? Is that you?’ Touko called from the bottom of the stairs.

He jumped. With all the ruckus he usually made, he didn’t think Touko would pay any attention to an extra thud or two.

‘Yeah, it’s me,’ he called back.

‘I didn’t hear you come in,’ she went on.

Panic set in, muddying his thoughts.

‘I'm a ninja,’ he yelled.

He smacked himself in the face as Touko’s laughter drifted up.

‘There's food here if you’re hungry. Come down after you’ve washed up.’

‘Ok, thanks.’

Nyanko-Sensei’s interest was piqued at the mention of food, so he ambled toward the door with single-minded focus. Takashi grabbed his tail before he got too far.

‘Oh, no you don't. I still need help in here.’

Nyanko-Sensei flopped to the floor with a sigh. ‘Make it quick. I'm hungry.’

Rolling his eyes, Takashi flung his bag into the closet, finished spreading out the futon, then dragged Matoba onto it. He arranged him as comfortably as he could, then assessed the situation again. The wound on Matoba's head had opened, and blood was slowly dripping down the side of his face.

‘Sensei, I need to get the first aid kit. Wait here and keep an eye on him while I find it.’

‘Fine. Bring me a snack, while you’re at it.’

Takashi left without another word. He found the first aid kit in the bathroom, and brought up a large plate of food Touko handed him as well. He’d explained the kit by saying Nyanko-Sensei had scratched himself somehow and needed a bandage. He then raced to his room before he had to think up another lie.

When he returned, Nyanko-Sensei was resting with his paws curled under himself beside Matoba’s hip, his eyes heavily lidded as if he were asleep. Matoba, however, had two distinct, red paw prints on his face, one on each cheek, like he’d been slapped by an irate feline.

Takashi frowned disapprovingly.

‘Oh, is that food I smell?’ asked Nyanko-Sensei, as he pretended to wake up.

‘Violent cat-things don't get any.’

It gave Takashi some small pleasure to see the look of horror cross Nyanko-Sensei’s face.

‘That’s not fair,’ he wailed. ‘Cruelty to animals. It’s cruelty to your devoted cat guardian.’

Takashi shushed him as he sat by Matoba’s shoulder. He put the food out of the way and tugged the first aid kit close to pull out a cotton bud and a small bottle of antiseptic.

Before he could touch the wound, a large hand snapped out to grab his wrist in a painfully tight hold. Suddenly, the room spun around and Takashi found himself pressed face first into the tatami mat.

Matoba, now above him and with his knee pressed into Takashi’s back, looked mildly surprised and amused at the same time.

‘Natsume-kun?’

He could only grunt what he hoped sounded like an affirmative. Matoba was heavy.

The weight eased off of him, and Takashi was able to sit up. He rubbed his cheek, which was now patterned by the tatami mat, while Nyanko-Sensei snickered behind him.

‘My sincerest apologies, Natsume-kun,’ Matoba said. ‘I was a little surprised by the unfamiliar location and a figure looming over me. The last thing I remember is being in the forest.’

Takashi swivelled around to face him. Matoba was kneeling on the futon, looking calm and smirking as if he had some private joke.

‘How long have you been awake?’ he asked.

‘Since you came in just now. Obviously, that's not enough time to properly assess my situation, hence my unreasonable reaction. Again, you have my deepest apologies.’

There was no point in lingering on the subject, so Takashi let it slide with a shrug. ‘It’s fine. I'm not hurt.’

He looked meaningfully at the first aid kit and the abandoned cotton ball. Matoba followed his gaze, then plucked a small mirror from the kit.

‘I can take care of this myself, Natsume-kun. Thank you for your concern and consideration, though.’

‘You're welcome,’ he murmured.

He shuffled back to get out of Matoba’s way and busied himself with the plate Touko had given him. He was glad he wouldn’t have to get any closer to Matoba than necessary, and so, was content to let him patch up his own injuries.

After handing Nyanko-Sensei his share of the food, Takashi selected a dumpling and ate it idly while waiting for Matoba to finish treating himself. He occupied his mind by trying to think of ways to sneak him out of the house without Touko or Shigeru being any the wiser.

While he was lost in thought, a hand entered his field of vision to take a pork bun from the plate.

 _Even the way he eats is arrogant_ , Takashi thought irritably.

‘If you keep scowling like that, you’ll get wrinkles,’ Matoba teased.

Takashi cleared his expression with a guilty start. ‘Sorry.’

Matoba waved off the apology. ‘It seems I have been absent from my estate for some time. My people will be wondering where I am. Thank you for your assistance today, Natsume-kun. I’ll see to it you're compensated for your troubles.’

Before Takashi could protest, Matoba got to his feet and strode from the room, with his sandals in his hand.

‘Uh-oh,’ mumbled Nyanko-Sensei.

Just as Takashi finally got to his feet, Touko let out a startled squawk, which quickly melted into embarrassed laughter as Matoba explained his presence himself. By the time Takashi made it downstairs, Matoba was gone, and Touko was standing in the kitchen fanning herself.

‘Takashi-kun, why didn’t you tell me you had such a charming friend? I would have put more effort into my appearance. To think someone as classy as that saw me like this.’

Takashi tuned out as she rambled on, muttering something about how Matoba was more an acquaintance of Natori’s than a personal friend.

Now that he thought of Natori, Takashi went to the phone and called him. Once Natori picked up, Takashi heaved an exasperated sigh.

‘You would not believe the day I've had.’


End file.
